Not right, Not wrong
by Light's Panties
Summary: Lovino can't handle being with Feliciano, but he can't handle being without him, either. - N.Italy/S.Italy, T for incest and Sexual themes.


**A/N: btw I don't like incest usually 'cept the macaroni brothers.**

**P-P-PASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

**HUUUUR DERP DEP DESU DERP HER DERP.**

**Hurr.**

**Romano x Veneziano, Spain x Romano.**

**And technically America x Canada.**

**BUT NUFF SAID JUST READ OH MY GOD ITS LIKE A BILLION WORDS LONG.**

**ENJOY:**

**-/-**

I never truly knew that it was wrong until everyone started having a laugh about Belarus and Russia.

We were all at some meeting –well, not all of us. But a lot of nations in a very small space. All the people that mattered were there, plus a few tag-alongs – like Belarus. She had been sitting with Russia at one of the meetings and had implied something about marriage, and America started shouting something about incest and everyone started laughing. Belarus argued her point and Russia looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and die. After that there was a _lot_ of jokes about incest and Belarus and sibling relationships – and even a little improvised skit featuring America pretending to make out with Canada. That made everyone laugh like crazy – except Belarus, obviously. I was pretending to laugh of course. But it was painfully close to the truth. I've always pretended to be as hard as rocks, as tough as nails. Sometimes I think I might be even more delicate and fragile than my brother. If they'd made some crude joke about the affectionate Italy brothers I might have broken down and cried. I think Hungary must have seen something was wrong since she didn't take her eyes off me for the whole meeting.

The way everyone reacted to it just pushed me further to the edge. I'd known that it wasn't right before, but I'd never actually know that it was _wrong_.

Although when we were back in out room – far too small to suit the needs of two nations, even if we were just two halves – I never would have thought it as anything _but_ right. I never outright told him that it was wrong, but he must have known because he waited until that split second after the door shut to fling his arms around my neck and press his lips gently against mine.

"That was funny, wasn't it?" He giggled. "When America pretended to kiss Canada. I laughed so hard!"

"You thought it was _funny_?" I asked, surprised. He couldn't be _that_ airheaded, could he?

"Yeah! America and Canada... they're hilarious!"

He closed the empty space between us, moving his body close to mine. I could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. I could feel my own heart race to catch up with it until we were in a rhythm. Feliciano's breathing began to quicken too, and I felt his hand softly teasing the curl of my hair that stuck out from the rest. He grinned at me, his hand still teasing my hair. One thing that I always wondered was how Feliciano could be so flirtatious and yet be so innocent. I know for a fact that he didn't even know what sex _was_ until he was about fifteen. And even then he had to ask France. My thoughts were interrupted when I felt my brother's soft lips pressed against mine, his head tilted and his eyes closed. I was hardly in the mood after the whole laughing session at the meeting but I went along with it anyway. I don't know why. When I felt his tongue slide along my lips, asking for entrance, I had to pull away.

"I can't do it, Veneziano." I shook my head slowly and frowned.

"Why?" Feliciano pouted, his wide eyes practically brimming with tears already. "What's wrong, Lovi'?"

"_Romano_" I corrected. Affectionate little names would _not_ do well to conceal what we did. "And I can't do it because it's... _wrong_."

Feliciano recoiled as though he'd been hit in the face. "Why is it wrong?"

Half of the time I wish that he'd just gone with someone else. I was pretty certain the Germany liked him, and at times I'd thought that Feliciano liked Germany back. And yet, no matter how many times Germany was actually nice to him, and no matter how many times Feliciano went on some kind of spontaneous mission with Germany, and no matter how many times he crawled into Germany's bed at night – he would always come back to me. Usually it was in the early hours of the morning. No matter where he had been, I'd feel him snuggle up next to me and put his arms around my waist and whisper into my ear; _'Ti penso sempre'_. I always think of you. That was the half of the time that I was so glad that I had Feliciano. We were brothers; but we were different to any other brothers that there could be.

"It's wrong because brothers aren't supposed to do this." I said, my voice grating a little.

He shrugged and put his hand behind his head, gazing up at me with those wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. "But brothers are _supposed_ to love each other"

"Yes." I sighed, thinking about the other siblings. America and Canada. China and Japan. They didn't act as close as we did; China and Japan hardly even acknowledged each other as siblings. "But they're not supposed to love each other like we do. Brothers don't love each other like that."

Feliciano frowned. He was such an airhead; couldn't understand that it wasn't right for siblings to be that loving. How could he be so naive when he had been exposed to so much? I didn't understand Feliciano; yet a part of me understood him perfectly. The part that was in love with him. I always knew I should have let him go before he got hurt, let him be with someone who it was _alright_ to be with. But I loved him too much. And I know that he would break down if I left him. He would never be able to let go, never be able to let me leave.

"It doesn't make sense, Lovi'" A small smile formed slowly on his face as he winked at me. "Because I love _you_ like that! So it must be right!"

I sighed. If Feliciano thought something was good, then to him it was right. Everything made sense to him, because he lived in his own world. I _should_ have been living in my own world like my brother, but instead it was like I was trying to fit into the world of all the other nations. The world of rules and right and wrong. I desperately wanted to be in Feliciano's world, but if I was, then who would protect him from the real world? I had to keep my little brother happy. I know that I always acted to cruel and cold to him, but if I let him in then I would be in his world, and he would end up unhappy. I could never have let that happen. So I let him think that his logic was right, and that brothers could love each other like we did and it would be okay. I trusted him enough to keep our relationship a secret. He knew I was uneasy in public when he was affectionate, I could trust him.

"So can we kiss again?" Feliciano chirped.

I reached out and teased his protruding curl of hair, twisting it in my fingers. "Okay."

He eagerly leant in and pressed his lips against mine, his head tilted and his eyes closed. Instead of being nervous or worried this time, I closed my eyes too and parted my lips, letting my toungue push its way into his mouth. He let out a little whine and pulled me closer to him until our chests were together and our heartbeats were in a rhythm again. At that point, I knew I didn't care that it was wrong. I didn't care if brotherly love should never be that passionate. I didn't care that every country would shun us if they find out. I just didn't care.

I loved Feliciano, and he loved me.

Of course, that wonderful, impulsive freedom – the first taste I'd truly had of Feliciano's world – was rudely interrupted when there was a sharp knocking at the door. I slowly pulled my toungue out from Feliciano's mouth, and he bounded over to the door to answer it, leaving me to slump onto one of the twin beds and wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. I heard my brother babbling away to the visitor – Hungary. She was sweet and patient with him, going through his affectionate greeting routine. I wondered how she would react if she knew that moments earlier, the lips that were touching her cheeks had been locked with mine.

"So why did you come to visit us, Elizaveta-chan?" I heard him ask cheerily.

"Well, I actually came to speak with Romano, if that's alright?"

I tensed. Hungary hardly ever wanted to talk to me unless it was simply polite conversation when she had come to see Feliciano. Did she know? No, that was impossible. We made sure that we were never seen. Well, _I_ made sure that we were never seen. But I could tell she knew something was wrong during that meeting. Maybe that was the reason behind her visit. I glanced round at them; Feliciano was still smiling happily, and Hungary was staring over at me.

"Romano?" She asked, her voice soft. "Can I speak to you out in the hallway?"

I nodded, and gulped, clenching my fists nervously. Hungary turned around and walked out of the door and I followed her. My legs were stiff and I could feel my breathing quicken. My brother was nowhere near as anxious as me. I don't think he was worried at all; he just went about humming one of his little tunes as casually as he always did. Hungary was smiling sweetly when I closed the door behind me, and when I turned to face her she put a hand on my shoulder and tilted her head.

"How's Feliciano?" She said, practically cooing.

"Why didn't just ask him inside?" I hissed back.

Hungary raised her eyebrows. "I know," She whispered. "About you two"

It took all of my willpower to keep myself from breaking down right then, right there. I wanted to collapse on my knees and scream and cry. I wanted to tug at the hem of Hungary's dress and beg her for forgiveness. I wanted to beg her not to tell. But I managed to stay firm, looking strong and tough and not letting my weak interior show through the brittle shell.

"What about us?" My voice was grating and monotonous. "We're brothers. Allies."

"Lovers?"

I pretended to be taken aback. "What?" It appeared as though Hungary was a lot more intuitive than I thought.

"Don't pretend, Romano." She gave me that sickly sweet smile again, her hand still on my shoulder. "I saw how nervous you were in that meeting. You might as well have just held up a sign that said: 'My brother is also my lover'"

I pushed her hand off my shoulder and looked away, avoiding eye contact. My entire body had tensed up, and I felt rooted to the spot. I knew Hungary was trying to catch my eye, trying to urge me into responding. How do you respond when someone accuses you of incest? Even if the accusations are true.

"I haven't told anyone" She whispered, bending down a little to whisper into my ear. "And I'm not going to if Feliciano is happy"

That got me. I felt a light stinging in my eyes, and they pricked with tears. I blinked, and a few drops rolled down my cheeks, leaving cold wet stains. Hungary lifted her hand and wiped the tears from my chin with a finger, and brushed my hair out of my eyes. The damp on her hand slicked it back and I could clearly see her gazing at me. I frowned, still trying to act like Mr-tough-guy even though by that point the tears were running rivers down my cheeks.

"He is happy, isn't he?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

"Veneziano is always happy." After that sentence left my mouth, it occurred to me that I was never comfortable calling him Feliciano in public. In fact, then only times I ever _did_ call him Feliciano were when he cuddled up next to me at night or when we were in a moment of sheer passion. And even then I'd only ever whisper it.

"Are _you _happy?"

She caught me off guard with that. If there was something bothering either of the Italy brothers, they'd always ask if Feliciano was okay. Hardly anybody bothered about my feelings. They'd sometimes ask for my help, or respect my opinion but never my feelings. Romano – just an emotionless, useless shell there to protect his little brother. That's all I was to most people, save for Spain and occasionally France or Japan.

"No" I sniffed and wiped my cheeks on the back of my hand.

"Why not? Feliciano adores you"

I wanted to just scream at her. I wanted to scream that I knew it was wrong, and I wish that I could just stop _caring_ that it was wrong like Feliciano did, that it wasn't fair how it didn't hurt him at all but it was _killing _me inside. How a big part of me just wanted to push him away and let go, but I couldn't because any time I tried to distance myself, Feliciano would just pull me back until we were closer than ever.

"B-Because it's not f-fair..." I managed to hiss between the gritted teeth and streams of tears. "He doesn't c-care that it's wrong"

"And you do?" Hungary lifted my chin with her finger. I could feel the cool wetness from where she'd wiped away my tears before. It would have been a lot nicer if I didn't know that she was only being nice to me for Feliciano's sake.

"O-One of us has to care" I gulped. I couldn't even hold the tears back; it was as if all the liquid in my body was suddenly flowing out through my eyes. "And I know it won't be h-him. I have to take on all the r-responsibility... and he doesn't even know h-how much I _do_ for us... I have to p-protect him"

"Oh, Romano..." She put her arms around me and pulled me into an embrace.

I bit down on my lip in an attempt to stop the crying. I couldn't stop my river of tears, but I managed to muffle the sobs that came out in ugly little gasps. Why was I pouring out all my worries to _Hungary_, of all people? For me that is like telling that owner of a cat sanctuary how much you love dogs. Although unlike many of the other nations, Hungary was actually in a relationship so maybe she could understand. Although Austria was nothing like Feliciano. Nobody was. Feliciano was just so many things to me; he was my brother, my lover, my friend, and so much more. He was the most important thing in my life, and I knew that no matter how much it hurt, I ought to keep him happy and safe.

"Listen" I could feel Hungary's breath tickle my ear, her voice becoming the quietest of whispers. "I can see just how devoted you are to him. And I know that he is _just_ as devoted to you, if you let him in. Feliciano isn't the only one that needs protecting"

My breathing started to soften, and I could feel myself becoming calmer. Hungary softly stroked my hair with one hand while she continued to hold he close with the other. I closed my eyes and just rested my forehead on her shoulder for what felt like an hour while she sympathetically breathed 'Shh' every so often. Hungary must have really cared about Feliciano to be that comforting to me. Although maybe... maybe she genuinely cared for me, too. The thought of having someone there for me when I couldn't handle things with Feliciano made me smile, although Hungary must have taken it as me beginning to cry again because she hugged me even tighter.

"Romano?"

I opened my eyes lifted my head a little so that I could see Spain and France, who were standing nearby, confused.

"What's wrong?" Asked Spain, frowning.

"It's nothing to do with you." Hungary stated, glaring at the two men.

"He's crying!" France exclaimed. He must have seen how red my eyes were, and the wet patch I'd left on the shoulder of Hungary's dress.

"Romano-kun, if there's something wrong..." Spain bent down, looking into my eyes. I ignored him, and closed them. "Is everything okay with Feliciano? You two haven't had a little fight have you?"

I shook my head slowly, wishing that it was just some simple fight between brothers, instead of me failing to handle the responsibilities of my relationship.

"Just leave, you two. He doesn't need help from two perverts" Hungary said, her voice stern.

Spain put a hand on my shoulder as France began to walk away. "Lovino, if you need to talk to me, just come to my room, okay?"

After they had turned a corner and disappeared from sight, I lifted my head from Hungary's shoulder, rubbing my eyes with balled-up fists. She gave a little chuckle when I had finished rubbing my eyes.

"You know, I never knew you cared for Feliciano more than just a little bit."

I gave her a little smile. "Yeah. I guess I do."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone about you two. If anything bad happens, just come and talk to me, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay." She smiled, and I frowned, putting on my usual tough-guy act, as if I had never been crying on the shoulder of a girl who used to work with my little brother. Then she walked away, still with that sweet smile on her face while I sighed and slowly opened the door and walked back into my room.

Feliciano was lying on his bed, a sunny smile on his face and staring up at the ceiling. I glanced out of the window and noticed that it was rapidly becoming darker, but my brother didn't even seem to notice. He leant up on his elbows and grinned at me, waggling his fingers in a silly little wave. I scowled.

"Hi, Lovi'!"

I looked away and flipped the light switch off, sending the room into darkness. Feliciano whined and I heard him scrabbling on the covers.

"Go to bed, Veneziano." I said gruffly, making every effort to conceal the fact that I still wanted to burst into tears.

"Okay!"

I heard more scrabbling, and the sound of him slipping under the covers and his head thudding into the pillow. Within _seconds_ his breathing was slow and heavy – he had already sunk into a deep sleep. I felt my way across the room to my bed and quietly stripped down to my underwear and then shot under the covers before the cold could catch me. The bed was surprisingly nice, and even though I hadn't been a bit tired before, I could feel myself becoming drowsy; my head sunk deep into the pillow and I started to drift off.

I was startled out my half-asleep daze when I felt a smooth, warm hand slide over my skin and someone lie close to me. I was facing away from them, but I knew that it was Feliciano. There was nobody else it could be. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me even closer to him so that we were squashed together, and I felt his hot breath on my ear.

"_Ti voglio bene_" He whispered.

"I love you too..." I muttered back, and I felt his arms squeeze me tighter in appreciation, even if I didn't have the heart to respond in Italian. I turned around in his arms and put my own arms around him, and he snuggled into my chest, sighing contentedly. I could feel his feathery hair ticking my chin, and his rhythmic breathing on my chest. I could feel his heartbeat, too, but it wasn't beating the same as mine. We were different.  
All of a sudden, I felt sick. I _was_ sick. No, I wasn't physically vomiting, but it was me – I was disgusting. I was half naked and lying in the same bed as my brother. I'd kissed him, touched him, had _sex_ with him and thought it was fine. He thought it was fine. I never even told him that brother's aren't allowed to do that, not in a way so that he could understand. He never even had a choice. He'd assumed it was okay because I was allowing it – I'd drawn him into this trap and then made out like _I_ was the one that it wasn't fair on. But it was him. He just did what he thought was making me happy, and I _blamed_ him and felt sorry for myself.

So I carefully moved Feliciano's arms and slipped out of bed, knowing that he had really fallen asleep this time. I put the covers back over him, tucking him in and kissing his forehead like he was a child. Was he a child to me _as well_ as a brother and a lover? Was I _that_ disgusting? I fumbled around on the floor near my bags until I found a loose white shirt and put it on like a dressing gown while I headed for the door. I shut it quietly behind me, hoping that I hadn't woken Feliciano up. We must have been lying down for a long time, longer than I thought, because the hallway had hardly any lights on and was fairly dark. I walked down it, hugging myself to try and keep off the cold. I should have thought more carefully before I left the room, and put something warmer on so that I _wasn't_ traipsing around the building in nothing but an open shirt and boxers. I didn't even know where I was going. I was too cold to go for a walk outside, and I didn't really want to be walking around the hallways in case somebody else came out of their room and saw me. I stopped in front of the door to Hungary's room, and my hand hovered in front of the wood, ready to knock. I couldn't hear any noise from her room, apart from gentle breathing. She wouldn't want to be disturbed, not just to listen to my worries. I lowered my hand, and leant on the wall next to her door, sighing. I could feel the cold stone through my thin shirt, but I barely cared. It was easier to cry alone in the dark, here, than to be sad in front of Feliciano and have to explain _why_ I was sad, or make up some lie. Warm, wet tears trickled down my cheeks and soaked into my shirt. I wasn't gasping or sobbing like before, just _crying_. I couldn't stop them; they just continued to flow like little rivers down my face.

Then I heard it. It was incredibly quiet, so quiet that it came as no surprise I hadn't heard it earlier. There was a gentle stream of music coming from the room opposite Hungary's. It was upbeat and happy, the sort of music that only one person would listen to at the dead of night. Spain. He had told me that I could come and talk to him, hadn't he? I'd known Spain since I was a child; I'd talked to him many times before about my problems – although they weren't Feliciano-related problems – and he knew me better than just about any of the other nations. He probably knew me better than Feliciano. I padded over to his door and gently knocked on it the moment I reached it, so I wouldn't have time to change my mind. It cracked open and Spain smiled at me, his dark hair ruffled and messy.

"_Hola_, Romano"

I ignored his smile, although it was dark, so he probably thought I was smiling back. Or at least he wouldn't be able to see the tears running down my cheeks. "Can I come in?"

"Of course."

He held the door open and I walked in. The music was coming from a small radio that rested on his bedside table, and I sat down in the foot of the bed, trying to look away from him in the slightly dimmed light. He folded his arms and raised his eyebrows once the door was closed, clearly curious about the stream of tears and my lack of clothing.

"Alright, Lovino" He said softly, sitting down on the bed with me. He called me 'Lovino'. That was unusual. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

I rubbed my eyes with the overlong sleeves of my shirt, feeling like a little boy again when Spain put his arm around my shoulder. "Spain? Have you ever been in love?"

"Call me Antonio, Lovino!" He chuckled. "Of course I've been in love... why?"

"Because I'm in love." I skipped the part about who I was in love _with_. "But it's hard. It feels like I'm not good enough for them, but I have all the responsibility in the relationship"

"Well, you certainly did a good job of hiding your status from everyone! All of us thought you were single." He ruffled my hair and twisted his finger in the sticking-out curl, making me frown. "Maybe this person isn't good enough for _you_?"

"I'd do anything for them" I whispered, the tears starting to dry up. "But I want _me_ to be happy too, Spa- I mean, Antonio."

"I could make you happy, Lovino" He breathed. "Happier than this person could"

I froze. Spain's arm was back around me, only this time it was around my waist. His fingers were wistfully feeling the edge of my shirt and occasionally the tips of his fingers would brush my skin. He sighed and looked at the ceiling, a half-smile playing about his lips. I didn't know what to do. Spain was _never_ like this. I must have triggered it. _Why_ did I have to go to _Spain_ for advice? I could have gone to Hungary, but _no_, I had to go knocking at his door. He hadn't even helped.

"Lovino?" He turned to me, and used the hand that wasn't around my waist to tilt my head upwards, facing his. "Do you want to be happy?"

I gulped, ready to burst into tears again. "O-of course... but..."

"Then be happy with me. Or do you want to stay constantly troubled and crying in the arms of Hungary?"

I wanted to say neither. I wanted to shout at him, and say that I was in love with Feliciano and I wanted to be happy with him. But I couldn't. I didn't have the guts to say that. All I could do was tense up and ignore him, jerking my head away and staring stubbornly at the floor. My eyes welled up with tears yet again and I tried to blink them away, but it didn't work. Spain wiped away the wetness as I let out a choked sob and leant against him.

"Why are you _doing_ this, S-Spain?" I gulped. "You're m-making it worse"

"Shh" He whispered. "You show up half-naked at my door, what else can I do? You deserve to be taken care of, like I used to"

I closed my eyes and wished that I was back in my own room, cuddled up to Feliciano. When I opened my eyes, I was still leaning against Spain. So I closed my eyes again. I don't know why I didn't just walk out and go back. I think a part of me didn't want to. Was this what it was like to be Feliciano? To be taken care of? Not having to worry about anything? Although of course I was still worrying about him. I felt Spain stroke my hair so I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter, but I could still feel tears trickling out of the corners. He slipped one hand underneath my bare legs and swung me up into his arms, so I put my hands over my eyes, clenched my jaw and tried to wish it away again. Instead of being back in my room, I felt Spain put me into his bed and draw the covers up around me before walking away. I opened one eye a little to observe him flipping off the light switch, and then a few minutes later and crawled into the bed as well. I wondered for a moment why Spain had one double bed in his room while Feliciano and I had two single beds, but that thought was cut short when Spain moved closer to me and put an arm around me, trying to pull me into an embrace. I tried to shuffle away towards the edge of the bed but he just moved closer, pulling me back with an iron-grip.

"Spain, I don't _want_ to." I hissed.

He let go. "Then leave. Go back to your room; think about this mystery lover and how unhappy you are. Lovino, I've taken care of you since you were a child. I _know_ how awful you're feeling." He breathed back.

I _desperately_ wanted to get up and run back to my room, leap into bed and kiss and touch Feliciano like there was no tomorrow, but I couldn't move. I was frozen to the bed. I thought of Feliciano back in my room. Was he still asleep? What if he was crying? I willed my body to move; to cooperate. I felt as though I was paralysed. Paralysed by Spain's words. He must have known that I wasn't planning on going anywhere, because he wrapped his arms around me again and pulled me in close so that I rolled over and faced him. I was curled up against his chest, and even though I felt horribly, awfully guilty, it was nice. Nice to be the one being looked after. His hand slid up my chest, making me shudder since it was cold and not making any effort to avoid touching my skin. He tilted my chin upwards, and then in the dark, he kissed me.

I didn't try and stop it. I didn't push him away and run back to Feliciano. Instead, I _let_ him. His lips were softly pressed against mine, but then he opened his mouth and – without realising it – I opened mine too. His hands were sliding up the back of my shirt, and my arms were around his neck. I could taste the spicy-tomato flavour on his tongue, and then his hands slipped downwards and fingered the elastic of my underwear. I still couldn't stop him. It was as if my mind wanted to stop, but was powerless because my body had decided that enough was enough, and it wanted to do things its _own_ way. Quite frankly, I was a little scared to find out what my body's way of doing things was, since it was letting Spain tug at my underwear until it was halfway down my thighs, and letting him slip my shirt from my shoulders and toss it out of the bed. Tears _again_ streamed down my cheeks, and Spain wiped them away with one hand, and then proceeded to kiss my cheek; my neck; my shoulder, working his way downwards while I let out choking, gulping sobs.

I woke up the next morning with a felling of guilt crushing down on me. I knew immediately that I'd been weak and stupid, I should have been stronger. I squeezed my eyes shut again for s few minutes to stop myself from crying like I had been doing a _lot_ the previous day, and then I opened them again, feeling a little bit stronger – not much, but a little.

As I got out of the bed and located my discarded shirt and boxers, which had been thrown out of the bed not too long after the shirt, I glanced at Spain. He was still sleeping, smiling as his head rested on the pillow. He looked incredibly peaceful, and I felt my body try and go back to lie in the bed again.

"_No._" I muttered to myself, and surprisingly, my body obeyed me.

After I'd quietly slipped on my clothes, I tiptoed past the bed and reached for the door handle, but before I could grab it, a strong pair of hands were placed on my shoulders.

"Where are you going, Lovino?" Spain purred, pulling me down to sit on the bed in front of him.

"Back to my room."

"Why?" He must have felt me tense up, because he began to massage my shoulders. I resisted the urge to sigh as my muscles relaxed, since he'd take that as a hint that I wanted _more_ than just a massage. "Can't you stay here for a while? It's early."

"My brother will wonder where I am. Last night was stupid."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it was."

"I don't know why you went back to live with your brother." He leaned in a little closer to me. "I liked it when you lived with me, when you were younger. You should come back."

"But my brother-"

"Listen, Lovino..." He sighed, continuing to rub my shoulders although it wasn't really relaxing anymore. "I know you two are close. But sometimes people need romantic love, not just sibling love."

"Yeah. But I need both."

His hands froze. I knew immediately that he had figured it out. Or at least that he was suspecting it. But I didn't care. I smirked a little and stood up, resisting the urge to laugh when I saw him gaping in shock. He frowned when I opened the door, and I looked at him to see if he was going to say anything.

"Romano..." Yeah. He'd definitely got it. Otherwise he wouldn't have suddenly tried to distance himself by calling me Romano. "Are you saying... that you and Veneziano... are..."

"You know exactly what I'm saying"

He choked with either laughter or disgust as I left, but I couldn't care less. I'd made up my mind. I was going to stop being so cowardly and actually talk to Feliciano. I would tell him and explain to him why it was wrong and give him the choice to leave if he wanted to. I'd stop feeling sorry for myself and then that would make _me_ happy, so that we could both be happy – if Feliciano wasn't totally disgusted and left. Well, if he even _possessed_ the feeling of disgust. I'd have to tell him about Spain, too. But coming clean would get rid of the horrible guilt and we could start again, only this time I'd be _honest_ with him.  
But clearly I was _not_ going to be visiting Feliciano quite as soon as I hoped, because when I passed Hungary's room the door was flung open and she stood there, fully dressed, with her arms folded.

"Are you going to tell me _why_ you've just come out of Spain's room half naked?"

I scratched my head nervously. "I went to talk to him"

"And you went to talk to him in your underwear and a shirt?"

"Yes. I couldn't find any other clothes."

Hungary raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. I shrugged and looked sideways, wondering if I should just run back to my room, but I heard the loud conversing of England and America coming closer. If I was caught in the hallway in my underwear by those two it would be awful. Rumours would start appearing and I would be shunned as though they'd found out about the whole doing-my-brother thing. Hungary heard them too; she looked out of the door and down the hallway to see if they were visible.

"Get in here" She hissed, grabbing me by the shirt collar and pulling me into her room, shutting the door afterwards.

We both held our breath when we heard the footsteps of the two loud nations walking by, arguing about either dinosaurs or fireworks; it was hard to tell with all the yelling. Once the sound of their voices had faded away, Hungary started scowling at me again.

"Tell me _everything_."

"Well, after I went back to my room... I couldn't stop thinking about everything. So I went for a walk."

"In your underwear?"

"I couldn't _find_ any of my other clothes."

"Why Spain?"

"He'd said that I could come and talk to him if I needed to. I was going to come to you... but you were asleep."

"You could have woken me up!" She slapped a hand to her forehead, exasperated. "You didn't _sleep_ with Spain, did you?"

"Y-yes..." He eyes widened. "Well, no! Not like _that_. We slept in the same bed, but we didn't do _it_. Well, we _did_, but I couldn't stop him."

"He raped you?"

"N-No! But my body wouldn't listen to my mind, but you have to understand, I'm going to make it right, and..."

"So you cheated on Feliciano?"

"_No_. It doesn't count. I'm going to fix it, I've decided I'm going to be braver and explain _everything_, including the Spain thing, and that it's wrong and see if he still wants to be with me, so he has a _choice_."

"You do know that I am personally going to rip your balls off and feed them to France for doing this?"

"W-What?"

"You know what I did to _Prussia_, and all he did was annoy Roderich."

Tears welled up in my eyes again. Who was I kidding – I was still a cowardly, weak little kid underneath it all. I couldn't _stand_ it when people assumed that I was fine with everything and anything that happened with Feliciano was _my_ fault.

Wait. Was _that_ why I'd become so upset? I was _jealous_ of my little brother? That must have been why it was so nice when Hungary was comforting me yesterday – she'd been a big sister to Feliciano, maybe I thought she was going to be a big sister to me. I was just _jealous_. Maybe the other stuff counted too, but _jealousy_ was so obvious I almost laughed.

"I'm jealous of my little brother" I breathed.

"Is that what's been bothering you?"

"I-I think so... the other stuff must be bothering me too... otherwise I wouldn't have thought of it... but _jealousy_. I'm jealous that everyone fusses over him and not me!"

I grinned cheerily, and Hungary chuckled. "So that's what you want? You want people to fuss over you?"

"Apparently." It felt so strange to be grinning like that. Normally the wide, cheesy grins were left to Feliciano. "I'll still tell him everything, and go through with that honesty plan, though."

"Good. And you'd better not cheat on him again, or the balls thing _will not_ be an empty threat."

"I won't! I don't even _like_ Spain like that"

"_Good_. Now, if you're nice to Feliciano I'll make a fuss of you too, Lovino."

"Thanks for everything, E-Elizaveta"

"It's nothing, sweetie" She ruffled my hair and I refrained from lashing out like I would have done with anyone else. "You should go and talk to him."

"_LOVI'?"_

We heard the shout from out in the hallway. I panicked, and Hungary opened the door. She smiled, beckoning Feliciano into the room. He looked worried and in shock, but smiled with relief when he saw me standing there. Once Hungary had closed the door again, Feliciano looked at me, my underwear and the open shirt. Then he looked at Hungary who was slightly flushed. For a few awkward minutes, Feliciano looked back and forth between us. Like when you see in dramas, the person is suspecting that two perfectly innocent people are having an affair. Almost innocent.

"Aren't you _cold_, Lovi'?" He asked, surprised at my attire.

I sighed. "N-Not really."

"Where did you _go_?"

Hungary nudged me with her sharp elbow. I winced, and looked him directly in the eye. "I _really_ need to talk to you... Feliciano..."

"Sure!"

I glared at Hungary, and she walked away. She didn't walk _out_ of the room, but just into the partitioned off kitchen-area. She was obviously listening, but I didn't care. I kind of _wanted_ her to hear. I took both of Feliciano's hands in mine, and sighed.

"Feliciano, I love you, but I have to let you make the right choice."

"What?"

"What we do is wrong. People will hate us if we find out, because siblings aren't meant to be as passionate about love as we are. People will shun us and ignore us if they find out, and I think a few people have already found out. If you want, we can end it now and we will still be accepted, but if people actually know that we are... _involved_, then I'm pretty sure they'll hate us forever."

"I don't _want_ people to hate us, Lovi'!"

I gulped, and my gaze flickered to Hungary. She nodded and smiled grimly, and I nodded back. "And last night, I was worried about all this, so I went to talk to Spain. We spent the n-night together."

"Like a _sleepover_?"

"Like _sex_."

Feliciano's face crumpled and tears welled up in his wide eyes. "I thought you only did that with _me_, Lovi'!"

"I know. I was stupid, and you should be angry at me. But you know _everything_, now, so if you want to l-leave me... that's o-okay"

It was taking every bit of my willpower to keep from crying. I didn't want Feliciano to see me cry. I was supposed to be strong for him, and let him make his own decision. I saw him look round at Hungary, willing her to make the choice for him, but she turned around quickly and pretended to be busy with something. Then he looked back at me, his mouth a little open and tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I don't _care_ what anybody else thinks, Lovi'! If they are really friends with us, they won't care either! But I don't want you to replace me with _Spain_!" He wailed.

"I don't _want_ to replace you with Spain. I don't _love_ him."

"But you love _me_, right?"

"Of course."

"Then I choose staying with you! I don't really care if they make fun of us! They don't hate Belarus and she loves _Russia_."

I smiled. "Thank you, Feliciano" I breathed, barely audible.

I don't think he heard me, but he pressed his lips against mine and we both closed out eyes, wrapping our arms around one another. I opened my mouth a little and he copied, letting out a little moan. We continued the passionate, impulsive kiss until we were both wrenched apart by Hungary.

"Woah, woah. Just because I'm okay with you two, it doesn't mean I want you _incesting_ all over my room."

Even though it wasn't funny, I laughed. I guess that was the effect Feliciano had on me.


End file.
